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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29874858">Worthy Gifts</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/hobbitdragon/pseuds/hobbitdragon'>hobbitdragon</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Witcher Fics [13]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Femdom, Geralt is a happy sub but Eskel isn't sold on this whole D/s business yet, Implied Oral Sex, Kink Negotiation, Polyamory, Praise Kink, Self-Esteem Issues</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 02:21:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,432</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29874858</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/hobbitdragon/pseuds/hobbitdragon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>What do you get the sorceress who has everything? A second handsome witcher to match the first, of course.</p><p>And what do you get the witcher who's too beaten-down to ask for anything? Well, you start with some self-esteem.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eskel/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, background Geralt/Eskel and Yennefer/Geralt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Witcher Fics [13]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1731811</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>95</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Fisstech and Succubi 2021</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Worthy Gifts</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/LambdaScorpii/gifts">LambdaScorpii</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Content warning: in keeping with most of canon, Yennefer's consent practices around mind-reading aren't great in this fic. This means that she reads Eskel's mind without asking, when I think there's a high likelihood that he'd want to refuse if he was aware it was happening.</p><p> </p><p>Thank you to brighteyedjill for beta-reading and making this better!!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Eskel had started off the evening blank-faced, as though reserving judgment until he had more information. But as he knelt on the thick carpet, Eskel’s expression had grown thunderous. Eyes narrowed in furious distaste, as if being asked to do something very unpleasant, he leaned forward to kiss his way up Yennefer’s thigh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a grimace of her own, she stopped Eskel in his painful progress toward her cunt by grabbing him by the hair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look at me,” she demanded, sitting up and closing her knees. She waited till he dragged his eyes up from the floor to glare at her. “You asked for this, it wasn’t my idea. You wanted to understand why the hell Geralt would do this with me.” She shook him, just a little, even though it made his lips tighten up into a knot. “I agreed to this as a courtesy to Geralt, but no amount of courtesy is enough to convince me to put up with a man being selfish and rude to me in my bedroom. Make up your damn mind what you want.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For another second Eskel continued his narrow-eyed stare. Then he sighed, looking grumpy rather than outraged. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s just--I get enough of this in my own life,” he said at last, then remembered his instructions and added, “--Madam. And so does he.” Eskel nodded his head (what little he could around her grip on him) toward Geralt, who lay bound and gagged on the bed nearby. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have lots of beautiful people tying you up and asking you to use your mouth on them?” Yennefer asked. “Lucky man.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Eskel snapped, and then winced at himself. “That’s not the problem. It’s--” He leaned away from her, shuffling back until she was forced to let go of his hair. Then he jerked his chin up at her. “--This. Getting me down on my knees, acting like I’m worthless, like all I’m good for is the services I can provide. My whole life is like that. There’s nothing fun about this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A large part of Yennefer wanted to slap him, to tell him not to be an idiot. But that would only result in everyone ending the evening upset. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So instead she studied Eskel for a moment, stroking one manicured nail along the edge of one of his cascading scars. As she did it, she slipped into his mind, just a little. Just enough to get a taste. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see,” she concluded after a brief pause. “You think this is about me putting you in your place, like all those awful little villagers who spit on you because they want to think you’re beneath them. Even though you’re smarter, stronger, better educated, and the one with a warhorse and expensive swords.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel’s eyebrows drew together, just a little, in confusion. He was so much like Geralt, she thought, and yet so different. Having them side by side like this was like seeing two different artists painting from the exact same model: the base form was clear, but the results differed in significant ways. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt had taken all the abuse the world had thrown at him and turned it into the desperate desire to please, to atone for whatever his real or imagined sins were. He saw value for both himself and others in his own suffering. As a result, Geralt had to be stopped from tearing himself to pieces trying to please Yennefer and everyone else he cared about. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But somewhere along the line Eskel had, apparently, grown exhausted by being torn down all the time, just as Yennefer herself had. Which meant that Eskel no longer got any kind of meaning or emotional relief from being hurt. But unlike Yennefer herself, Eskel had never learned to expect or demand better treatment, either. All he wanted was a little </span>
  <em>
    <span>less</span>
  </em>
  <span> mistreatment while getting on with his duty.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had been a long, long time since Yennefer had faced the kinds of reactions Eskel and Geralt got out in the world, but she remembered being a child in Vengerberg and a young woman in Aretuza. She remembered the disgust in people’s eyes when they looked at her. The only variety had been whether any given individual turned their disgust into pity, abuse, or just attempting to ignore her existence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yennefer understood what that constant tide of disgust did to a person. She understood that Eskel had stepped beyond the gates of Kaer Morhen at eighteen and had been perceived as a dangerous freak for all the decades since. And she could only imagine that the scars had made it worse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yennefer had never really been able to convince Geralt that he was worth anything. But Eskel--Eskel was just angry enough that he might be more susceptible. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Yennefer told him. “Your foundational assumption is wrong.” She sweetened her words by dragging her nails lightly through Eskel's hair and over his scalp. His gaze softened and dropped, lashes flickering a little as he couldn’t help but respond. “I have no interest in trash. I know my own worth--which means that I only accept gifts of worth. Rare, beautiful, powerful things.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She saw, both in the skeptical narrowing of Eskel’s eyes and in the judgmental slant of his thoughts, that he still didn’t understand. Couldn’t understand, maybe. He was caught in remembering the thousands of petty cruelties people had enacted upon him, and thus misperceiving them here, again, with her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a moment she herself wondered why she was bothering with all this work--and then she looked at Geralt over on the bed. His golden eyes weighed upon her, heavy as coins, as he silently did just what she was trying to describe to Eskel. In bringing Eskel here, Geralt had at last laid before Yennefer all the things he loved most in the world. He had already given her a daughter beyond compare, and though he put little value on himself, he had given himself willingly too. Eskel was the final treasure of real value which Geralt had yet to share with Yennefer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So Yennefer smiled. She calmed herself, readying her patience and persistence. Eskel wasn’t Geralt, as alike as they were. Eskel needed a different touch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re still thinking about me,” she told Eskel. “You’re thinking about what a selfish, demanding bitch I am. You’re not wrong about me, but you’re failing to see what that means about </span>
  <em>
    <span>you.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>This got a look of outright bafflement from Eskel, edging into frustrated peevishness. The walls he’d built up in himself against this exact thought were high, but Yennefer prided herself on being able to get wherever she wanted to be. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If I’m that selfish,” she told him, “If I’m demanding and exacting, if I accept nothing but the best and punish every fool who tries to cheat me out of my due--then </span>
  <em>
    <span>what does that mean about you, Eskel.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>For several long seconds he stared at her, eyebrows drawn down in furious confusion, before all at once he understood and dropped his chin, trying to hide behind his hair just like Geralt did. Yennefer watched in delight as his face, neck, and even shoulders and chest flushed a rather ridiculous brick-red color. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And there it was. </span>
  <em>
    <span>There</span>
  </em>
  <span> was the gift Geralt had been trying to give to her, and to Eskel himself. Even without peeking into Eskel’s mind, Yennefer could tell that she’d gotten under his skin. The satisfaction of it sat warm and delicious inside her like fine wine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t have allowed you anywhere near my bedroom if I thought you were worthless,” she continued, pressing her advantage. “I deserve lavish, glorious gifts. Does that include you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clearly a man of no more words than his so-called ‘brother,’ Eskel said nothing and instead opened his mouth to pull one of her thumbs onto his tongue, stroking the pad of it with that sweet, molten touch. Giving her a taste, perhaps, of what he would be like between her legs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well then,” she purred, relaxing back into her velvet chair and parting her legs for him once more, now with much more anticipation. “Do I get my present now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time he kissed up the inside of her thigh with every sign of eagerness, nuzzling into the hair on top of her mound and drawing a deep, ecstatic breath as if the smell of her was the finest perfume imaginable. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the end of the evening, gasping out her heartfelt praise for every inch of Eskel’s skilled, incredible body, she thought that they had both pretty well proven her point.</span>
</p>
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